Two Halves
by GottaHavePride
Summary: Bill confesses his feelings for Tom, and Tom struggles to supress his own emotions. Twincest, BxT.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Let's try this again, shall we? Moogle reminded me on occasion about this story, and I finally thought to upload it.**

**Read and review, if you please!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own, manage, stalk, produce, or otherwise call Tokio Hotel, including the sexy Kaulitz twins, my own.**

"Oh mein gott, it's good to be home," Tom exclaimed as he burst through the door of his and Bill's four bedroom condo.

Bill trailed behind him, wheeling two suitcases, with a third slung over his shoulder. Silently he made his way to his bedroom, where he dropped the cases and walked back out. "Yeah, I guess."

Tom looked up. As usual, he'd dropped his suitcases in the middle of the living room. "Why so glum, baby brother? I mean, I know you love touring, but even _you_ have to have been getting tired." He led the way as he and Bill left their condo and headed back down the elevator.

"Yeah, I suppose." He got on the elevator with his twin and leaned against the far wall.

Tom turned and stared. "Come on, Bill. Cheer up. Do you want to go visit mom and dad? I know that always makes you happy."

They stepped off the elevator, and headed toward Tom's Escalade, where their bags were. Bill shook his head. "No, not really."

They each grabbed two more bags each and headed back to the elevator. "Seriously, Bill. What's up? Do you want to read fan mail? That normally cheers you up."

The two of them stepped onto the lift and Tom pushed the button for their private floor, inserting the key and turning it. The doors closed and the elevator began moving. "Don't really want to." Bill shrugged.

The doors opened and they stepped out into the small hallway/parlor that separated the elevator from their front door. "Well, what do you want to do, then?" Tom looked vaguely annoyed now.

Bill took his bags back to his bedroom and left them there, while Tom dropped his in the middle of the living room and waited. It would take him days to get all of his stuff unpacked and put away in his room. "I guess I just want to get everything up here and unpack. After that… I don't know."

"Okay." Tom shrugged. Bill could tell he was irritated, but he didn't say anything. They made their way back down to Tom's vehicle, and with the help of the guards, got the last of their bags and brought them up. Once the guards had made sure they were settled and left, Bill made his way back to his room to unpack.

Tom followed. This was a ritual - Bill would unpack his stuff while Tom sat on his bed and watched. However, Bill paused at his door and turned to face Tom. "Hey, can you give me some space?" He didn't say it in a mean way or an irritated way - but in a tired, almost sad tone of voice.

Tom's expression showed shocked hurt until he closed it off. "Sure, no problem." He turned and wandered aimlessly to the living room, unsure of what to do. Finally he settled on the couch, sitting there, wondering what was wrong with his twin.

***Three Hours Later***

Bill emerged from his room, having finished unpacking. There was a purposeful expression on his face, and his stride was determined. He entered the living room to see Tom playing on the laptop. Tom looked up, and seeing Bill's face, shut the laptop and sat back. "What's up, Bill?"

Bill sat down on the opposite corner of their couch. Tom, sensing that he needed his space, remained in his corner. The two of them stared at each other. Finally, Bill spoke. "Tom… I… I'm gay."

Tom stared at him for several moments, his expression unreadable. Finally he sighed. "Yeah, I kind of figured you might be."

But Bill wasn't through. He took a deep breath. "Tom… that's not all."

Tom watched him carefully. "What else, Billa?"

Bill gulped. "Tom… I'm… in love with you."

Tom's expression twisted into shock and disbelief. "No you're not." Instant denial.

Bill laughed - but it was a dry, humorless sound. "Yeah, Tom. I am."

Tom shook his head. "Bill… We're brothers. _Twins._ We can't fall in love with each other. It's impossible."

Bill smiled. It was a sardonic expression, full of irony and pain. "'The heart wants what the heart wants.'" He quoted.

Tom shook his head. "No, Bill. You're confused. You've said yourself that the twin connection is a powerful connection. You're right, it is. You're confusing it for a different powerful connection. You love me, Bill, but you're not _in_ love with me."

Now Bill was scowling. "Don't tell me what I do or don't feel, Tom. I know who I am, and I know what I feel. The love I feel for you isn't a brotherly love, and it's different from a twin love. It's a kind of love that makes me want to just kiss you sometimes. A kind that makes me want to grab you and hold on and never let go. A kind that makes me so jealous of whatever girl you hook up with. It makes me want to hold your hand when we go places, and tell everyone that you're mine. It makes me want to climb into bed with you, and just-"

"Mein gott, Bill, stop!" Tom cut him off quickly, and his expression was tortured, as if he couldn't stand to hear what his brother was saying. "Bill… how can you be in love with me? I'm your BROTHER. I don't… You can't…"

Bill focused his gaze on Tom. "You don't what?"

Tom hesitated. "I don't… love you in that way, Bill."

Bill closed his eyes. Tom could see the pain written across his twin's face, and it killed him. "I'm sorry, Billa…"

Bill opened his eyes. Tears that were threatening to fall made them glitter. Tom wanted to reach for his brother, but something made him hold back. Slowly Bill spoke.

"It's okay." He rose from the couch. It felt as if he were moving through molasses - every physical act was an effort. He gazed at his twin, though he wasn't seeing him. He wasn't seeing anything. His vision had gone grey. He forced himself to turn, to leave the living room and walk to his bedroom. He walked in a shut the door behind him. Slowly he moved to his bed, and sat down on it, staring vacantly at the wall. One tear tracked down his cheek, and then several more followed as Bill dissolved into silent tears.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Forgot the A/N! Whoops. Hahaha, oh well. Anyways, it gives me a chance to reply to the two reviews you left me, Lita4Life.**

**Yes, poor Billa indeed. He already pretty much hates himself for falling in love with his own twin, and to have Tom react that way just like... killed him.**

**And as for a happy ending... I'm not sure. I'm quite a fan of sad endings, actually, so you never really know with me. I can promise that there will be plenty of twisted, angsty-drama sort of stuff in here, and that things won't end up PERFECTLY for the two of them. But as to a solid happy ending... I just can't say. ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own, manage, produce, stalk, or otherwise call Tokio Hotel, including the sexy Kaulitz twins, my own.**

***Three Months Later***

"Okay. On my third finger, guys."

The band nodded, Bill adjusting his microphone, Tom and Georg shifting their guitars, and Gustav picking up his drumsticks.

David Jost held up one finger, then two, and finally the third one.

"Automatic."

Gustav beat in the opening drum beats. Tom and Georg picked up the first chords.

"Automatic.

"You're automatic and your heart's like an engine,

"I die with every beat.

"You're automatic and your voice is electric.

"Why do I still believe?"

"It's automatic,

"Everywhere in your letter.

"A lie that makes me bleed.

"It's automatic

"When you say things get better

"But they never.

"There's no real love in you."

Bill couldn't help it. As he began singing the chorus, his eyes slid over to Tom. Matching brown gazes met, and Tom flushed and looked away immediately.

"There's no real love in you.

"There's no real love in you.

"Why do I keep loving you?

Bill looked down and away, focusing back on his song. His voice was full of the passion and conviction that one could only have when they truly believed in what they were saying, when the words came from the heart. Everyone heard it - but only Tom truly understood.

"It's automatic

"Counting cars on a crossroad

"They come and go like you

"It's automatic

"Watching faces I don't know

"Erase the face of you

"It's automatic, systematic, so traumatic

"You're automatic

A tint of anger colored Bill's voice, but more than that, it was pain that was infused in his tone.

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"Why do I keep loving you?

"Automatic, automatic

"Automatic, automatic

"Each step you make

"Each breath you take

"Your heart, your soul

"Remote controlled

"This life is so sick

"You're automatic to me

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"Why do I keep loving you?

"Automatic

"There's no real love in you

"Why do I keep loving you?

"Automatic."

Tom and Georg played the last guitar notes, and then the band looked up at their producers.

"Hmmm. Bill, have you ever considered a kind of fade-out of your voice, after the last bridge, repeating the line 'There's no real love in you?'"

Bill frowned. "But that means it'll be said like, four or five or however many times. A little repetitive, don't you think?"

Tom opened his mouth, but Bill saw it and glared at him. His older brother hesitated, and then shut his mouth, looking away.

Pat fiddled with the controls at the sound booth. "But if we fade it in a bit, like this…"

She activated a playback control and Bill's voice filled the room, a faded version of the line "There's no real love in you" sounding.

"And then you segue into a non-faded version of the chorus?"

"How many times?"

Pat looked at Dave, who shrugged. "Hmmm. I don't know. Twice? That way the faded version has more impact than just a quick line, but it doesn't get too repetitive, like Bill said."

Bill frowned, and then pursed his lips contemplatively. "Hmmm. Play the faded version twice, and then I'll pick up the regular chorus."

Pat fiddled with the controls, and then Bill's voice, electronically softened, played into the room.

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

And then Bill paused, and picked up the chorus.

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"Why do I keep loving you?"

He stopped singing, and the producers looked from one another.

Tom finally spoke up.

"What if we all," he gestured to himself, Georg, and Gustav, "Beef up the instrumentals, after a pause that happens after the faded version. Bill says the line again, but with a different version of the instrumentals. Like, an amped version. And then we segue into the chorus. Say the line twice with the faded voice and softened instrumentals, twice with an emphasized voice and emphasized instrumentals, and then the regular chorus and end the song."

The producers slowly nodded. "I like the sound of that. Bill, we'll soften your voice, they'll soften the instrumentals, then pause, you start singing the louder version of it, in the middle of the first line they'll start the beefed up instrumentals, say the line again, then segue into the chorus. Try it, from the last bridge."

The boys glanced at their pages, and then Gustav, Tom, and Georg picked up the instrumentals, and Bill began singing.

"Each step you make

"Each breath you take

"Your heart, your soul

"Remote controlled

"This life is so sick

"You're automatic to me.

Tom, Gustav, and Georg softened the instrumentals, and Bill kept singing.

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

They instrumentals cut off, and Bill sang with a harder, louder voice.

"There's no real love in you

Tom, Georg, and Gustav cut in with louder, more rock-ish instrumentals, and Bill continued to sing.

"There's no real love in you."

A pause.

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"Why do I keep loving you?

"Automatic

"There's no real love in you

"Why do I keep loving you?

"Automatic."

The instruments faded away, and the producers nodded. "Okay. Hold on..." They messed with their dials and knobs, and then they played it back. The song section they'd done played back, and during the first two repetitions of the line, Bill's voice was softened, faded, matching the instrumentals.

"Sound good?"

Bill had tilted his head, listening closely, and slowly he nodded. "Yeah. I like it. What about you, Tom?" He looked at his twin brother, almost accusingly.

Tom frowned. "It's good. Though the lyrics are iffy."

Everyone froze. Everyone heard the clatter of Gustav's drumsticks as he dropped them. The producers' faces showed shock, and even a little fear. Georg was gaping at Tom.

Bill looked shocked, but that quickly turned into anger. "What? What's wrong with my lyrics?"

Tom shrugged. "I dunno. They're... false. It's like the person is blaming the one they're in love with for not loving them back, and just because they don't love them back, it apparently means that they're incapable of loving. It's... ridiculous."

Bill's face was turning red. Tom was staring pointedly at his own shoes. "So you think my lyrics are stupid?"

Tom sighed. "I didn't say stupid."

Bill rolled his eyes. "_My bad._ Ridiculous, then. You think they're _ridiculous._ Well, then, Tom, fix them. Come up with something better."

Tom finally met his brother's gaze. His eyes were soft, defeated, whereas Bill's were filled with angry pain. "You know I suck at that, Bill."

Bill smirked, but it wasn't his usual smirk. It was twisted, sarcastic. Superior. "Then unless you can come up with something better, and if NO ONE ELSE-" here he glared around at everyone else – Georg, Gustav, and the producers, who all hurriedly looked away - "has an issue with them, they stay. Problem?"

Tom muttered under his breath, but shrugged and shook his head. Bill glared around at everyone else, who shook their heads quickly. "Okay then. Any _other_ ideas?"

The room was silent. Finally, David, who was always the one that was least scared of Bill's diva fits, spoke. "I'm liking the fading of your voice. You know the part where you say automatic, four times in a row? I want to echo it. Here, let me play it for you..."

"Automatic (automatic, automatic, automatic)

Automatic (automatic, automatic, automatic)

Automatic (automatic, automatic, automatic)

Automatic (automatic, automatic, automatic)"

Slowly Bill nodded. "Yeah, I could learn to live with that."

The producers nodded. "And while we're at it, Bill, the last chorus? What if you say automatic for each pause in the chorus?"

Bill paused. "You mean like...

"Automatic

"There's no real

"Automatic

"Love in you

"Automatic

"Why do I

"Automatic

"Keep loving you?

"Automatic."

"Like that?"

"Exactly!" Pat said happily. "Hey, Bill. Sing a little woah-oh for me…"

Bill tilted his head, but he'd always liked Pat, so he complied. "Woah-oh-oh-oh."

Pat 'hmmm'ed and fiddled with the controls, and then lifted one finger, and then two, and then a third.

"Automatic (automatic, automatic, automatic)."

"Automatic (automatic, automatic, automatic).

"You're automatic and your heart's like an engine (woah-oh-oh-oh),

"I die with every beat.

"You're automatic and your voice is electric (woah-oh-oh-oh).

"Why do I still believe?"

"It's automatic,

"Everywhere in your letter (woah-oh-oh-oh).

"A lie that makes me bleed.

"It's automatic

"When you say things get better (woah-oh-oh-oh)

"But they never.

"There's no real love in you.

"There's no real love in you.

"There's no real love in you.

"Why do I keep loving you?

"It's automatic

"Counting cars on a crossroad (woah-oh-oh-oh)

"They come and go like you

"It's automatic

"Watching faces I don't know (woah-oh-oh-oh)

"Erase the face of you

"It's automatic, systematic, so traumatic

"You're automatic

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"Why do I keep loving you?

"Automatic (automatic, automatic, automatic), automatic (automatic, automatic, automatic)

"Automatic (automatic, automatic, automatic), automatic (automatic, automatic, automatic)

"Each step you make

"Each breath you take

"Your heart, your soul

"Remote controlled

"This life is so sick

"You're automatic to me

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"There's no real love in you

"Why do I keep loving you?

"Automatic (automatic, automatic)

"There's no real

"Automatic (automatic)

"Love in you

"Automatic (automatic)

"Why do I

"Automatic (automatic)

"Keep loving you?

"Automatic."

The last notes of the song played, and the producers began clapping. "Perfect! We'll fix the echoes, and then we'll record it the day after tomorrow. Okay, next song. World Behind My Wall."

Georg stood up and moved to the piano that was set up in the studio, and after a nod from his band mates, began playing the notes.

Bill began singing, while Tom lingered, waiting until it was time to pick up the guitar notes. Bill sang the first two verses, and then began the chorus. Georg picked up his guitar and began playing as Tom hit the guitar notes, both of them singing the back up "Woah-oh woah-oh" with Bill. Gustav picked up the drum beats.

They played their way through the chorus, and then Georg moved back to the piano as Tom softened the guitar notes and Gustav played the cymbals lightly in the background.

"I'm ready to fall,

"I'm ready to crawl on my knees, to know it all

"I'm ready to heal,

"I'm ready to feel."

Back into the chorus, with the piano abandoned for the moment, the guitar and bass picked back up, and Gustav keeping beat.

Bill picked up the refrain.

"See the world behind my wall.

"See the world behind my wall.

"See the world behind my wall."

The bridge was sung, and then Bill prepared himself, pitched his voice high, and sang,

"Take me there!

"Take me there!

"Take me there!"

As they sang the chorus, the control booth played a faded version of "Take me there" during the first half of the chorus, and then Georg played the closing notes on the piano. The band stopped playing, and looked at their producers.

"Great job, guys. That sounds like it's ready to be recorded. Alright, guys, photo shoot time. Head on out."

"Remember to let me stand in front, guys. We want to make them think we look good, and the best way to do that is to get photos of _me._" Tom laughed, and Georg grinned and punched him on the arm.

"Unless you want them to think we've gone hip-hop, we should probably put Bill at the front."

"Yeah, and we'll have them thinking we're all effeminate cross-dressers if we do that." Tom grinned, expecting Bill to fire back at him, but his twin merely glanced at him and then looked away.

Tom looked down, desperate feelings rising up in him. He and his twin had been distant every since Bill had told him about his feelings. He was getting to the point where he longed for the old connection, the old closeness they'd once shared. The two of them had used to tell each other everything - now the only way Tom knew anything about Bill's life is if he had been there and seen it for himself. Which wasn't very often - unless it had something to do with the band, Tom and Bill rarely spent any time together. Practices in the studio, and the occasional photo shoot or interview, were all he saw of his younger twin. Even when both of them were at home, Bill withdrew to his room and never came out when Tom wasn't in his. It was driving him insane - he'd never really acknowledged or felt thankful for the connection he'd had with Bill, but now that it was gone, he ached for it to be back.

Georg and Gustav watched the exchange, and then looked at one another. They'd noticed the difference in the past three months or so - actually, there had been a change in Bill for the past half a year. Neither of them were in the loop - every time they asked if Bill and Tom were fighting, both the twins closed up and wouldn't say a word until the subject changed. At least on that they were unified - because in every other aspect, they were split. As soon as one of them had an opinion, the other voiced a completely opposite idea. It was like they were _trying_ to be at odds with each other.

Bill led the way down the stairs. Anymore, he moved on automatic. It killed him, to be around his twin, to live in the same house as Tom did, to sing in the same band that Tom was in. Every time he looked into the brown eyes that matched his own, his heart splintered a little more. It was a real, actual pain he felt in his chest. He'd never thought you could physically feel your heart breaking, but now he knew otherwise. You could.

The days were a blur for him. He only remembered times he spent with Tom, and… those were not his favorite times to remember. He often withdrew somewhere private, whether it was his room, or the studio bathroom. He knew the others noticed how depressed he was, but at this point… he didn't care.

Emerging out into the parking lot, the light blinded him for the moment it took him to pull his sunglasses off of his head and situate them on his nose. The others either did the same or shielded their eyes, and the four of them made their way to the large Escalade that security would drive to take them to the photo shoot. Bill hesitated, waiting for someone to climb into the back row of seats, and when Gustav went first he cut Georg off and crawled in after him, leaving Tom and Georg to sit in the middle row.

The band was used to this by now, though it never failed that they would try to get him to sit next to Tom. With a sigh, Tom and Georg climbed in, and the band buckled up. Their guards got in as well after doing a last security check, and they headed to the photo shoot.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This story is progressing faster than it was originally intended, but I refuse to have another Amanda's Story, where it takes... What, 16 chapters for them to even kiss? So. Yeah.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own, manage, stalk, produce, or otherwise call Tokio Hotel, including the sexy Kaulitz twins, my own.**

**Read! Review!**

"If you could come sit over here, Bill, on this stool. Kind of have your feet far apart, but your knees bent in and touching each other. Rest your forearms on your knees, your hands hanging - yes, like that! Alright, tilt your head a little to the left, now turn it - turn it to your right. Alright, hold that. Tom, come over here and lean down, rest your left forearm on his shoulder, elbow behind his neck, hand hanging off his shoulder, put the other hand on your hip, maybe in your pocket if that seems more natural. Cross your legs at the ankle – careful, now, don't fall on him! Alright, now, Bill I want you to hold that pose, but move your eyes so that you're looking at him. Tom, I want you to look at the camera, and look intense. Bill, I want you to look… amused. Lovingly amused. Can you do that? Sure you can, alright boys, let's go."

Bill and Tom arranged themselves, their faces careful masks of indifference until they were posed just right, according to the camera man. Finally, Bill looked up at Tom, and Tom faced the camera, frowning slightly, doing his best to imitate 'intense.' Bill hesitated for a moment, and then smiled slightly, keeping his emotions in check, afraid to let others see what he was feeling, knowing he was an open book when it came to his expressions.

"Bill. Not tense. Loving. Amused. Happy. Come on, you already feel it, let us see that you feel it."

Bill finally gave in. He let himself remember everything – everything about his twin that had made him fall in love with him. All the ridiculous times, the private moments, the shared looks. The bond that they'd formed from birth, that for Bill had developed, grown, into a bond that was double what any twin had ever felt. A lot of people would call them kindred spirits – but Bill knew that, while that was true, they had a one-up on the others. They were soul mates. Bill knew it. He... would just have to convince Tom, somehow.

The smile on his face was slightly dreamy, with a quirk at the corners betraying some sort of secret joke. His eyes were soft, and they gazed at his older twin with something so heartfelt that it was incomprehensible. Everyone watching figured they were seeing a twin moment.

Tom was painfully aware of Bill's expression. His feelings. He could all but feel them radiating off of his twin. He gulped, trying to ignore it, trying to ignore the feelings rising up in him. Sympathy, he'd labeled them. Plain and simple – that was what he felt, every time his twin looked at him, stared at him, smiled at him (something he did so rarely anymore).

_Absence makes the heart grow fonder, _a voice inside of his head echoed. Tom blinked. His thoughts had been paralleling that type of line lately. Sure, he missed his twin. He definitely appreciated how close they used to be, now that they weren't. Maybe he was even more aware of the love he had for his brother, now that their relationship was strained. But... What Bill felt for him – because Tom no longer doubted it, his twin _was_ in love with him – he didn't feel the same. He _couldn't_. It was wrong.

Not illegal, though. Barely. Tom had, spurred on by curiosity (a sick sort, in his opinion) had researched it online. Incest was illegal – both the act and the marriage – however, only if it involved vaginal intercourse. Which meant that... _No!_ It didn't matter, because there was no way he consider being like that with Bill anyways.

"Tom. You look disgusted, not intense."

"Disgusted? Seriously, Tomi? Fine. Just great. I know how it makes you feel, but you don't have to all but _tell_ everyone!" Bill shoved Tom's arm off of his shoulder and jumped up, rushing to the door and pulling it open, slamming it shut behind him.

The entire crew stared, and then slowly looked at Tom. He'd nearly fallen when he'd lost the support of Bill's shoulder, but had caught himself and was simply standing, staring stupidly at the door. He didn't know what to do. He could go after his twin, but what would he say? 'I'm sorry I don't have the same incestuous feelings of love for you that you have for me?' He doubted that would make Bill feel any better. Slowly, he took in everyone staring at him, and shrugged, plastering on a fake smile. "Sometimes Bill gets in these diva fits, and no one really knows what he's talking about." Good enough explanation, he thought.

"Well, go get him. None of us know how to work with him when he's like that, and we need to finish this shoot."

Well, _shit._ Tom had been dearly hoping he would avoid doing just that – he didn't really want to face his twin right now. However, everyone was looking at him, expecting that he would go calm Bill down – like he'd always used to be able to do – so with a sigh he headed for the door.

Tom heard it as soon as he shut the door behind him – sobbing, coming from their dressing room. "Oh, no..." He groaned, staring balefully at the door separating him and what was most likely a crying Bill. Finally, he forced himself to walk, though he dragged his feet until he came to a stop in front of the door. He tried the handle – locked. He sucked in a breath, gathered his courage, and knocked.

"Go away." The words were muffled, and tear-soaked. Tom closed his eyes and sighed.

"Bill. Billa. It's Tom."

There was a pause. And then, now angry, "Go away."

Tom groaned. "Bill... Please, let me in... It was a huge misunderstanding. Come on... You're overreacting. You know you do that."

Sniffling, and a hiccup.

"Bill. Please... Talk to me... We haven't really talked since..."

A sob erupted from behind the door, followed by several quieter ones as Bill dissolved into tears again.

"Bill... Let me in..." It was killing him, to hear his twin's pain. Killing him worse than ever, because he knew he was the one causing it. He badly just wanted to fix it, to make everything better, to kiss Bill and tell him -

Woah! No. He didn't want to do that. That was... definitely not something he wanted to do. He must be picking up on his twin's emotions, which was... dangerous. He didn't want to fall for Bill just because Bill was in love with him. Scratch that, he didn't want to fall in love with Bill at all. But... he couldn't, could he? Why was falling in love with his twin suddenly a possibility, something he had to worry about? He'd never thought it possible, before. He'd never even considered it – the thought had never crossed his mind. I mean, he was straight. And for the longest time, Bill had only expressed an interest in girls. So... Why were his thoughts always revolving around his brother's soft skin, his twin's slender body, those long, feminine legs...

Damnit, no! Change of subject, now. There had been no answer when he'd told Bill to let him in – a different tactic. "Bill, it's going to get leaked to the press that we're fighting if you don't come out."

Finally, there was a sniffle, and then he heard the doorknob click. Tom yanked open the door to be witness to Bill's recent crying jag – streaked eyeliner, mascara running down his cheek, smudged eyeshadow, clumped foundation. Tom sighed. "Bill, you've got to fix your make-up before you can go back out there... come on." Always the older twin, he took Bill's hand and gently guided him back into the room.

Years of watching Bill do his make-up had done the trick – Tom found a napkin and some baby oil and began dabbing away the makeup gently, making sure not to rub and irritate his baby brother's skin. Once all traces had been removed, he dried Bill's face, even as his brother's soulful brown eyes stared up at him.

"Tomi... I know... You don't feel the same way. But... How could you be disgusted by what I feel?"

Tom sighed, and paused, taking the towel away to stare into his brother's eyes. "I'm not disgusted, Billa. I'm just..." _Confused by what I might or might not feel._ He couldn't say that. "I... Want to feel the same way. I want to give it a chance, Bill..." Why was he saying this? Why were his brother's eyes drawing him in, forcing him to spew out these words that he'd never even thought before? It was almost like his heart was speaking for him.

Bill reached up and took a hold of Tom's wrist, the one holding the towel, pulling it away from his face. His other hand reached up, slowly, tentatively tracing Tom's cheek. "Then... Why... Why won't you?"

They stared at each other. Bill licked his lips. Tom's eyes followed the movement, and did the same. Slowly, as if drawn in, as if his twin were pulling on a string attached to his body, Tom bent down, hesitating every few inches, until finally he laid his lips on Bill's.

Bill's eyelashes fluttered, and slowly his lids lowered and covered his eyes. Tom could only stare, until he felt his twin's tongue tracing his lips; with a gasp, his eyes closed, and he parted his lips, granting Bill entrance. He felt the cold metal of Bill's tongue ring sweep across his upper lip, and was drawn into a dance of tongues, until, gasping for breath, he drew away.

His eyes opened, to watch as Bill's slowly slid open as well. Bill's smile was sensual, and yet oddly innocent. "That was my first time kissing a guy," he said softly, staring up hopefully at his older twin.

Tom wanted to run. He wanted to kiss him again. He wanted to tell Bill it would never happen again, and he wanted to do so much more. He sighed, and straightened up.

"Let's finish your makeup."


End file.
